


Misplaced In Space

by PseudoFox



Category: Doctor Who, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Anthropomorphic, Comedy, Drama, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Furry, Gen, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Outer Space, Romance, Unspecified Doctor(s) (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoFox/pseuds/PseudoFox
Summary: Living in the middle of the comfortable but frustratingly quiet Bunnyburrow, an older rabbit reminiscences about her past adventures. She's about to receive quite a surprising visit from a past friend not of this planet. Yet, even as she deals with that shock, things remain not quite as they seem. This was written as a part of the 'Thematic Thursday' recurring event.





	

**[Chapter One]**

"The monster clutched me by my collar and grabbed me close. I kicked and screamed at it for a good half a minute, bashing helplessly upon its hard metal body to no avail. At that moment, everything seemed bleak. The Autobeast controller even pressed me hard against the wall," recited a middle-aged rabbit, opening up her eyes wide.

The silence before her showed just how she'd captured every last bit of attention from her audience. As she told the tale to the little bunnies sitting below her, the scene looked like something off of the cover of a Christmas card. Nearly every inch of the widely-spaced house, from the knickknacks on the many shelves to the vases full of tulips to everything else, appeared welcoming.

"The sensations of that horrible metal upon my fur triggered such a reaction that I can barely put it into words... goodness! Yet, suddenly, a bright burst of green light went off throughout the room. I struggled to escape... with a torrent of screeching noises surrounding me! And you know what?"

Enraptured by her every word, the young ones all looked up with eager eyes. They gazed at her beautiful yet mischievous face. "Oh! What?" asked a particularly tiny bunny.

She smiled as she stood up upon her smooth, reddish-brown sofa. Acting out the mechanical attack upon her, the audience loved it. The older bunny abruptly pointed her paws to the edge of the cozy-looking study.

“Ferrel Focks! Way off to the side, yes, he had managed to reverse the monsters' coordinating signal from the control panel,” she replied, gesturing widely with her paws, “and, in a matter of seconds, the tables were turned. The web-like antennae hanging from the ceiling all throughout the room started to suck out energy from the Autobeasts. By instinct, I shoved my legs forwards and kicked the mechanical beast off of me.”

She wiggled around in place and let out a gasp. The little bunnies gasped as well. She grinned back from cheek to cheek.

“The Autobeasts all keeled over and crumbled, tiny explosions of shimmering green rippling all across their horrible bodies!”

"Time to go, darlings,” called out a melodic voice from the adjacent kitchen.

"I somehow managed to hear Focks' frantically going down the steps over to me, despite the the swarming mass of noise. The Autobeasts shook and shivered all around in place. I sucked in deep breaths as I ducked down behind the dusty table to my side," the older rabbit went on, pretending to 'take cover' behind a large fan beside the couch, "using it as a shield between me and the monsters. In a flash, Focks flung himself over the table into my arms." She hugged herself as she vividly finished that particular scene.

"Did he even break a sweat?" one of the small rabbits asked.

"Oh, yes! To be specific, sweat started slipping all down his cheeks as we realized just how we still had much to do. The professor remained trapped in his office, barricaded behind those heavy pyramid-shaped blocks on his door,” the older bunny replied.

“Does this lead into the one about the Mars pyramids? Where you fight the outer space demon and his mind-controlled mummy things?” interjected a cute-looking fellow on the far right of the group.

“Oh, angel, I’m sorry, but that’s back when Focks had that long, funny scarf as well as all of that fluffy hair, way before he met me,” the storyteller responded, laughing for a moment, “yes, I know, Focks' best adventures happened before he even ended up with me, rushed into my hospital. But let me get back to the Autobeasts. Now, then, the pyramid-shaped blocks, made entirely of ice, had already melted a little before we rushed down the stairs. Focks gave the nearby air vents a good shove and directed the hot air right onto them.”

“Wow,” said one of the little ones, with the short and squat rabbit pulling on his dingy shirt, “but what about the ray-guns outside the ship still shooting—”

“And I said ‘ _now,_ ’ darlings,” declared a hare as she made her way into the study. She stepped about and picked up one of the children as she shooed the others away. A chorus of whines began. “I'm really sorry. You know I am, but you all know that we have to pick up that old coot waiting for us at the dentist.”

"It's," the storyteller began, but she suddenly shivered, "all a.. all a... _a-choo_!" She found herself tossed back, leaning half upon the couch, from a huge sneeze.

"Oh, Renee, I really apologize," the hare called out, awkwardly fumbling her paws around her coat, "I keep forgetting how much your nose can't stand these black Preyda—"

"Just don't, ah," the storyteller interjected, standing up straight and covering her face with both paws, "leave the other one in the closet again. It'll be fine. And I _promise_ —" Her eyes wandered around the still peeved little ones. "That I'll finish the tale next time! Get along with your mother, sweethearts!"

“See you, Auntie,” several of the small bunnies called out.

“Bye, bye! And you, Sarah, have got to give me more warning one of these days,” commented the storyteller as she stepped away from the couch and made her way over to a nearby window.

“Sorry about that, too just running out of time,” Sarah replied, already shuffling out of the door of the small house, “I’ll call you later, Renee.”

"Sure, bye for now," she said. Renee looked out through the window as her nieces and nephews crowded into their immense black mini-van. She moved her head over a little and measured up her reflection in the glass. Rain had started, with occasional streams of water pitter-pattering along the window. Still, she easily made out numerous imperfections in her face and every place around it.

Renee let out a deep sigh. Her eyes ran along various wrinkles and discolored spots on her fur. The fact that her long red gown matched her elegantly bright white body, still looking more like a stage actress than an idle ex-nurse, didn’t seem to matter. Nor did she pay that much attention to the many compliments received during her daily errands. She just couldn't help comparing herself to her life decades ago.

“What's the phrase? They say ‘running out of time’, eh,” Renee muttered, “miss, you’re not a young rabbit anymore. Maybe I should begin to just turn the page on a lot of things...”

She’d spent time with so many different mammals throughout her life, especially those in Bunnyburrow that she achieved deep and lasting emotional bonds with. Some of them she had to totally let go. Yet this one particular figure in her life, one that had referred to her tongue-in-cheek as a ‘companion’, a ‘best friend’, and more, she had let go in such a profound yet unhappy way. And she could never seem to treat it as anything other than the recent past, something that could change at any moment, despite never seeing him for ages.

“If only... I just,” she began, pausing as she pressed her cheek against the window and let the melancholy show, “I'd love help him one more time. I know that I'd feel different if I could try to have a real goodbye—”

The entire house suddenly shook as an immense noise boomed out above it. Glasses wobbling on tables, paintings wiggling on the walls, and desks rapping loudly against bookcases, Renee found herself staggering around, ending up underneath a doorway. A set of ugly noises filled the air all around her, and she half-collapsed onto her backside.

Yet, after only a few seconds, everything quickly stopped. The rain still not letting up, Renee hopped across the kitchen floor. The front door was blown open. Not even thinking, she sped right outside.

The normally pristine and picturesque countryside outside of her cottage was littered with the mangled bodies of trees and bushes. And that was just the beginning. Stepping on wet branches with ugly marks on their sides, Renee glared at the piles of ruined leaves and stems that used to be prize tulips. Looking up at the once delicately trimmed trees left in crumpled messes, she let out a huge groan.

She abruptly heard another groan coming somewhere beside her. The bunny hopped around, ears perked, yet couldn't tell where the sound had exactly come from. She stopped next to mound of clumped greenery. “Hello?” Renee called out, tapping a paw against the ground. She glanced around at the scene, seeing some kind of large object buried beneath branch after branch.

Shoving her paws forwards and pulling off clumps of leaves, she took in several deep breaths. Her mind couldn't grasp what exactly had happened. It all came out of nowhere.

“Goodness, sir or madam, are you around here? Are you okay?" she idly asked, still not knowing who had made that noise and where exactly they were, "I... was this some kind of aircraft accident? Earthquake? Either way, I'll help! You alright?"

Huge mounds of greenery still piled up around her, she lifted up a thick wad of leaves and made out a long, dark piece of what seemed like dark blue metal. Rubbing her paws along the edge, she scrunching her nose in confusion. Shoving most of the greenery off the object, she noticed what seemed like a set of doors, leading into something like an old-style telephone box.

“Oh, my goodness, it… it… can’t… just… can’t…” Renee shifted to the left and brushed against the end of a branch. It suddenly snapped, knocking her down on her behind. As her eyes focused upwards, she made out the rest of the huge, dark-blue object, noticing the police markings. “The time craft is here in my front yard? Is it? Is this real? Is this happening?”

A set of ugly-sounding, gurgling noises from above her caused her to hop away from the police box. She spotted a silhouette of a fox a few feet in the air, sitting in a still standing oak tree. As the wind blew a bit stronger around them, the fox, covered in various bits of leaves, petals, and more, slipped slowly down the side of the tree onto the ground. Renee slowly walked over as mysterious mammal lay crumpled up in a fetal position. Everything around Renee seemed so surreal, so dream-like in its unreality, yet so visceral.

“Sir? Are you okay?” Renee asked, finally mustering up the courage to reach out and scrape along the mammal’s sides.

“To be honest, not really,” said the greenery-bathed fox, trying his best to stand up. He immediately half-fell into Renee’s arms. Thankfully, the size difference didn't quash her into the ground. He abruptly pushed himself off of her, leaning against a bashed-in tree trunk for support. With the fox idly migrating his paws all over his body, Renee tried to study him closer. Some kind of ash and dust covered his face, his small hat appeared squashed in the middle, and his suit as well as his pants looked to be in tatters. “Oh, ma'am, but I will, uh, manage!”

Renee gulped, helping the fox brush off his face. Dream or not, she had, for the purposes of her own sanity at the very least, to ask that ultimate question. “ _Focks_? Is that you?”

“I am one, ma’am, at least the time I checked,” he replied, discarding his hat onto the ground below. As Renee took a good look at his somewhat clean face for the first time, she noticed a considerably boyish hue to his cheeks as well as a general softness of his orange fur. His whole head also seemed far rounder, flatter, and all around larger than she had remembered. “Yet, well, I don’t think I can quite recall much about myself at all. I suppose I could use a good cup of tea and a somewhat long shower, to be perfectly honest with you.” He oddly wiggled his paws in front of him, looking uncomfortable with himself in a way that she couldn't quite place. She reflected for a moment on his various gestures in contrast with his pleasent, chipper-sounding voice.

“No, I mean,” Renee went on, trying to concentrate, “are you _the_ Focks?”

“I'm fairly sure I'm not a _'the'_ anything,” he responded, copying her emphasis as he walked around in place for a moment. He turned his pants pockets inside out, patting their edges so that various bits of small twigs and leaves fell out of them. “And, ma’am, I sincerely must apologize for my, uh, disheveled state.” He lowered his voice, trying clearly not to blush. “I also don’t particularly know where I am at the moment. I'm in need of some... sustained assistance.”

“I see,” Renee quietly muttered back. She held her arms at her sides and froze in place, trying to manage the emotions bubbling around in her mind like a whirlpool swirling in an ocean. The mysterious visitor still tried his best to clean himself, with his scruffy brown moptop haircut and vibrant greenish-brown eyes showing up a bit more.

“It should all be alright in not too long,” the fox murmured. Renee hopped in front of him. His cadence sounded more like a mammal in his twenties, yet the same kind of general verbal hilt and tone that he possessed sparked many memories.

Bizarrely, his accent felt neither here nor there particularly— being a half-and-half mishmash akin to someone stranded on in a boat on a lake miles between Bunnyburrow, Zootopia, and elsewhere. Renee did her best to try to keep from grabbing the fox, shaking him, and screaming for him to try to remember. She decided instead to press her front paw against the fox's chest for a moment, which sadly did nothing.

“So, well,” the visitor began again, scratching his head, “I have to mention that, while I thank you for pulling me out of my unfortunate agrarian state a moment ago, I’m having a hard time recalling much of anything about myself.”

“Ferrel,” Renee declared, this time adding a sense of finality and certainty to her voice as she gripped her paw on his shirt.

“Hello, nice to meet you, Ferrel,” he said, abruptly clasping her paw with both of his.

“No, I mean that _you’re_ possibly Ferrel.”

“I'm possibly somebody?” he asked, his face oddly lighting up even more, "well, that's a fair step better than being absolutely _nobody_! We're at least getting somewhere!"

“Oh, this is going to be incredibly tricky,” Renee muttered, trying once again to hold down out her emotions. She closed her eyes, took in a large breath, and pointed over to the nearby house.

“Oh, thank you, if I could come in for just a moment I would be very grateful,” he said, stepping over to the door. With his paws still clasping one of hers, he accidentally dragged her along, Renee starting to skip. He glanced down, let out a tiny noise, and let her go. She closed her eyes again and pointed again at the door.

Every single move of his upon the grass up to the door seemed like a sudden, new adventure to him. His head kept on twisting about and bringing his gaze to various bits of the ruined countryside. He then thrust open the door yet paused, standing up call for a moment.

"Yes?" Renee asked, feeling hopeful.

“I just have to say this: my, I feel sorry for the gardener.”

“Here we are, then,” Renee said, stepping past the fox and gesturing at the various parts of the living room, “maybe you’ll have a better control of your, uh, senses after you have a bit of rest. A shower. Something like that.”

The visitor suddenly gripped Renee as they stepped onto the rug beside the door, his body thrusting to the side. The bunny managed to hop in a way that kept him from whacking upon the nearby window. Huffing and puffing for a moment, he tried his best to stand up straight again.

“Sorry," he said, "but that window, well, I just—” Getting face to face with the glass, his reflection staring back at him, his eyes grew wide as dinner plates.

“Sir?”

“My _cheeks!”_ the visitor cried out, grabbing the sides of his face and stroking his fur back. “What have they done to my cheeks? For heaven’s sake, they make me look like a puffer-fish! It’s like some Autobeast torturer shoved an air tube up my nose!” After patting his cheeks for a few seconds, grunting angrily, he gazed up into his own eyes and along his hairline. “I like the greenish tone in my iris, though. It makes me seem more mysterious. Not a fan of the hair… yeah…” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “That makes me seem like some kind of third-rate carrot pop singer.”

“Focks!” Renee cried, clutching his shoulders and trying her best to physically drag him into the kitchen. “So, you do remember?”

“Remember... what?” he replied, letting out an embarrassingly feminine squeak as Renee seized his paws away from stroking his own face. She then set him down on a small chair.

“The Autobeasts! The adventures underwater with the robotic octopus and cybernetic puffer-fish! The weird body transformations where your fur, teeth, and everything else mutated from form to form! All of those fantastical events, right?” Renee exclaimed, pacing all around her visitor and then sitting down across him at the kitchen table. “ _Right_?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but what’s an ‘Autobeast’? Is it like an experimental smartphone?” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. "I love the name, though. There's probably a lot of money in it. Mark-ups like crazy." Somehow, his vocal tone had seemed to grow more curt, more like a stereotypical street hustler, in a while before reverting again to something else. As Renee groaned and buried her face in her paws, the fox got up out of his chair and took a deep breath. “Look, I’m… I’m very sorry. I think I remembered something important a matter of seconds ago only to forget it again. I’m trying to get a hold of things. I can’t recall much.”

“No kidding," the bunny muttered, letting her head lay down flat upon the table. A few awkward seconds passed. "Let’s get constructive.” Renee stood up in the chair and held her head up high, feeling determined. “What _do_ you remember?”

“Well, let’s see. First, I fell into the top of a tree. Next, you showed up.”

Renee simply stared blankly.

“Could I, well, try and clean myself up a bit in the nearby bathroom? A full shower would probably help jog things.”

“Oh, the downstairs bathroom doesn’t work. Go ahead and head upstairs. If you want to change, then go ahead and use anything that my brother has, that whole right section left over in the closet, since he left it there way back at Christmas and doesn’t seem to want it back,” Renee commented, looking up at him yet letting her ears droop with disappointment. As the visitor left, she pushed her head back down onto the table again and groaned.

It seemed as if whatever spiritual beings that ruled her universe only wanted to toy with her. It all felt so close to a dream, finally getting to see the dashing fox that had taken her out on so many adventures again. _The_ Ferrell Focks, outer space adventurer... yet she had gotten stuck in a bog of uncertainty.

Renee took in another deep breath and stood up, cleaning about in her kitchen a bit. She thought that she might as well make her visitor some tea after all. It seemed only fair.

Meanwhile, the mysterious fox popped out of the shower and dried himself off completely. He stepped into the adjacent bedroom and made his way into the walk-in closet, gazing around at the various jumbles of clothing. “That’s what a hobo would wear, so no. And that a clown’s get-up, is it?" He let his paws migrate around bits of fabric, feeling frustration building up inside of him. "And that would look like a merchant banker?" A plain kind of suit just felt wrong to him, for whatever reason, even if it seemed unusually familiar.

One get-up in particular caught his eye. He stared blankly at it, frowning from cheek to cheek. It seemed as if someone had randomly stitched together cloths after an explosion in a textile factory.

"Oh, goodness, it's hard to even look at that garish, rainbow-colored monstrosity,” he murmured, running his paws around in between various other outfits, "and... well, what kind of freaky family does this bunny belong to, anyway?" Yet he finally came upon something that struck him as youthful and sporty. “If I’m going to be an amnesic, then I shall be a well-dressed amnesic.” He admired himself in the mirror for a moment. “There we go: looking like a Victorian dandy. Or maybe a musical star pretending to be a Victorian dandy. Either one works. It would be nice if I was going to play cricket. Which… I think is as fun as baseball." He scratched his cheek. "Maybe.”

Fits of memories burst through his consciousness. Yet each once slipped through his senses like paws trying to grasp clumps of sand. He recalled vague yet happy moments of spending time with several rabbits, the memories coming with a smattering of various languages pouring into his ears that he couldn't make out. It made him want to act as nice as he could to this particular bunny, certainly, but it didn't help him remember why he had showed up in the first place.

Somehow, the oddly-shaped bottles of soap, body wash, shampoo, and the like on the counter appeared to jog even more shattered memories. The fox glared at the silver pepper-shaker-shaped soap pump right next to him on the sink as well, though he had no idea why. "I suppose I'll... well," he said to himself, "I should at least make her some tea. It's only fair."

Downstairs, Renee held up two teacups and placed them delicately onto the table. Hearing some kind of noise outside in the distance, she stepped away and leaned up against the doorframe. “Oh, what on earth are those things out there?” she muttered, holding her paw above her eyes and trying to look out. Three small, metallic objects lined up in the far distance along the gravel road to her house. They seemed too small to be cars yet nothing like bicycles or motorcycles. “My eyes are playing tricks on me again? That ought to be someone asking about the horrible noises a while back when ‘maybe-Ferrel-Focks-or-maybe-not’ popped in, I'm sure! Reasonable enough to speak to them about it, isn't it?”

“Oh, thank you very much,” the visitor remarked as he stepped off of the stairs and went for a cup of tea. Renee took a moment to look upon his new attire— eyes going up from the tip of his hair all the way down to the bottom of his pants. She sat down and picked up her own cup. Altogether, he seemed to want to represent himself as a cross between a 1950s-era teenager going to his first prom and a Victorian aristocrat.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, Renee commented to herself, “Well, whoever he is, he shares Focks' complete and total lack of fashion sense.”

Taking a several sips, the visitor smiled, leaning back in his chair and breathing in deeply. “Thanks again for your help.”

“I don’t mind at all,” she replied, “after all, I don’t get that many visitors here other than family.” She brushed an ear against her chair. "I love family coming by, and all, but they'll do the worst things, like interrupt—"

“ _And,_ ” the fox remarked as he finished his cup, leaning to the side in his chair a bit. “I just—” A profound look came over his eyes, his youthful face suddenly seeming far more serious. “I _remember!”_

“Yes, Focks?” Renee asked, excitement almost pouring from her voice. She came close to embracing him on the spot.

“There’s a matching hat to this!” the visitor exclaimed, standing up and speeding over to the staircase.

Dejected, Renee walked over to get herself another cup. She looked out of the kitchen window and made out some more of the strange metallic things in the far distance. “That’s odd to say the least! Did they just stop in the middle of riding towards here or something? Are they watching us?”

A loud noise burst out from behind her. Renee dropped her two cups into the sink and rushed over to the staircase. She gasped as she saw the visitor lying flat on the floor, apparently having tripped over the very last step. His face was buried in the carpet while his hat spun on its side about in front of him. Renee grabbed the fox and tried to push him up.

“Oh, gosh, are you hurt?” she reached for his hat and put him on, looking at how his big cheeks seemed redder than before. "Speak to me!"

“I’m alright, Renee, and I’ll be fine. It’s just a nasty little mishap, dear.” Rubbing the fur on his cheeks, face, and scalp down, he stopped to suck in a deep breath.

“Are you,” she began, freezing for a moment and pulling him up against her body, “wait, I never told you my name was 'Renee'. Did I?”

“Well, of course you did,” he responded, holding her shoulder for a moment and smiling shyly, “Miss 'Renee the Nurse', as I used to say, we met way back when I got stuck inside the boson bombardments at Alpha Centauri—” His whole body seemed to shiver from head to toe, his hat slipping off of his body once again, and he jumped upwards. “Goodness, I— I— I _remember!_ I remember why I’m here!”

Renee immediately felt the urge to just hug him passionately. She held herself back, but still allowed herself to smile from cheek to cheek. She exclaimed, “Yes! That’s great!”

He clutched one of her paws and brought her back to the door into the kitchen. Both of them lined up face to face, the fox and rabbit then held their paws upon each other’s shoulders. Joy shone out across both of their faces, with him looking far older and her years younger than just a few minutes before. “Nice to meet you again, Renee, I'm Ferrel Focks! Now, run!”

“What?” Renee squeaked out.

 _“Run!”_ Focks barked, clutching her side for a moment before they both ran off into the study. The fox immediately dove into a closet, pulling her in after her so that their bodies bunched together. Renee looked up and saw his features drooping, pure terror showing in his eyes.

“What the bloody hell is it now?” she asked, not holding back with her frustration.

“We! Must! Search! The House!” rained out a set of harsh, staccato screams.

“I obey!” yelled out yet another voice, this one being just so slightly muted than the other.

“Oh, dear,” Renee whispered, both of them closing the closet door so they could just see a little bit out of the slit.

“Switching to infrared!” the voice yelled out once again.

They both stared out as they saw a monster looking somewhat like a gigantic pepper shaker with various joints and knobs attacked all over it. With its whole body being a stark, bright white, they watched it as it searched throughout the study. Three objects, one of them like the end of a projector weapon and the other two like a mechanical arm with an eyestalk besides it, stuck out from the side of the monster. Focks moved his paws around the ceiling atop them for a bit, trying to stop from being so cramped.

“So, I’m finally seeing with my own two eyes one of those... those _horrid_ things,” Renee whispered. "A Fanghowl."

“One of the worst enemies of all life across all the universes,” the fox quietly muttered back, “that terrible mix of living matter and corrupted machine is a weapon with no emotion besides raw hate. Mix-and-match mammals of various forms became mutated into an agent of sheer terror.”

“Living objects detected in vicinity!” the creature screamed. “Going to beneficial interface!”

 _“Beneficial_ interface?” Focks whispered, a swirling of emotions suddenly bursting out inside of him.

“Acquaint! Acquaint! Acquaint!” it went on, causing both Focks and Renee to make utterly confused faces at one another.

Suddenly, Renee sniffed. She looked up, to her horror, at how yet another Preyda coat was lodged into the corner of the closet. The fox, knowing what could happen, reached down a second later. But he was too late. Renee let out a loud sneeze that caused them both to fall forwards onto the door.

In what felt like forever, the two of them glared at the Fanghowl, and it did so back at them. It then abruptly turned about and moved away from them both, going back into the kitchen. They felt even more confused than before, bodies locked closely to each other.

“What could they possibly be doing—”

“Befriend! Befriend! Befriend!” went a chorus of extremely loud noises. Focks and Renee looked on as three of the entities went into the study room, each of them repeating the word over and over again. Before they could really think about it, what apparently served as the lead entity moved up right against the fox and pointed its eyestalk.

“You are Ferrel Focks?”

He spent a moment looking back blankly, trying to remember what exactly had brought him to this house in the Bunnyburrow countryside. He also fumbled around in his mind for what exactly had happened to him before mysterious forces had mutated his entire body. He thought back to various figures that he had taken, deaths that would otherwise lead to the end of his life only instead leading to a transmogrification to another form.

Those thoughts appeared very vivid, utterly real, yet also seemed like someone else’s life experiences— almost akin to watching a biographical movie. The idea that he may have gotten mixed up with somebody else in his last transformation, turning him into some kind of halfway compromise between two different mammals, stuck in his mind. It felt horrifying.

“I am, in a matter of speaking,” the fox cautiously replied, moving his paws down towards the creature. The idea that maybe he was something else entirely— a groggy fanboy or a weak impersonator with only the memories of a space traveler and none of the talents— clouded the mind. Yet he shoved all of those notions down. With Fanghowls on the loose, some kind of a Focks would have to do, either fake or the real deal.

Focks' eyes became even wider as the various strange creatures moved closer to him and made odd squeaking-like mechanical sounds. The terrifying noises, still, couldn't hurt his resolve, the fox keeping his expression flat. The Fanghowl thrust its mechanical arm up into his paw, revealing a crunched up mix of celery and pink tulips. Trying to maneuver about its claw, the Fanghowl accidentally crushed the tulips into a sordid mess, leaving just the celery. 

"I hope that's not some kind of omen," Focks whispered, staring at the crumpled petals.

“You are Ferrel Focks! We are here for friendship! You shall all be befriended!”

“Very... well then,” the fox replied.

“We will _exterminate_ this world’s unhappiness!”

“Well, this is going to be rather interesting,” the fox dryly remarked as he placed the celery in his suit side pocket.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Alright, now that’s the end of the first full scene,” Nick Wilde said, stepping back from the gigantic screen while still pointing at it with his nightstick, "and it's just, as we stated before, a test video. However, it's important to build off of this: we officers will be using exactly these kinds of skits, sketches, and fandom story-lines based off of popular media in all of our future video productions."

He looked around at the various mammals sitting in the small cinema. His eyes particularly hopped from a fat weasel in a fancy suit to a short wolf having on something almost like pajamas to a tall hare with gym clothes and a shirt reading 'I Lift, I Live'. All of them clutched bits of paper and pens in front of them. More importantly, none of them had on anything but an emotionless, flat expression. 

"The skit that you just saw, like my colleague said, serves as a precursor to a public service announcement about what to do if you've witnessed the crash of an aircraft. Since it's our _first_ one and simply an internal production, we chose to have... fun with it," Nick continued, letting his voice get quiet with those last three words. He allowed the nightstick slip to out of his paw, going down into the backpack beside him.

Someone in the back of the audience awkwardly coughed. The short wolf kept gnawing at the end of his pen. It made a loud cracking sound as he finally bit it in two, which made Nick cock his head to the side and glance over in that direction.

"Any questions, then?" the fox asked. He reached down to clutch his big sunglasses from his belt. "How about this: anyone have any comments?" He heard nothing but silence. "Any concerns... complaints... criticisms... compliments... other relevant words that begin with a _'kah'_ -sound ..." Nick looked knowingly over at Judy Hopps as he trailed off, twirling the sunglasses in his paws.

The bunny pressed her body against the stair railing behind her. They both brushed a paw against their police uniforms as Nick valiantly attempted to hide the 'I told you so' emotions that boiled up inside of him. Judy forced herself to smile widely as she picked herself up and sat herself up on top of the railing. “Well," she began, "everybody... what do you think?"

“To be honest,” the wolf replied, his huge, blue eyes clearly giving off the sensation that he'd rather be at the adjacent café enjoying that spring day rather than crammed inside, "I’m not sure about this, to say the least."

"Well, lets talk about it," Judy said, wiggling around a little bit where she sat. Her optimism looked only a little bit deflated, "You're 'not sure' about what? And why?”

"So, in terms of special effects and things," the wolf went on, twisting the chewed-up pen in his paws as ink oozed out onto his lap, "I guess you guys decided to go with a lot of aluminum foil?"

"Yeah," Judy replied, sliding a paw upon the stair railing.

"Leftover car parts I guess, too, with like a windshield wiper here and a gearshift there?"

"Oh, and _lots_ of fabric softener, too," Judy said, looking up at the ceiling for a second. She suppressed a giggle. "There's actually a pretty funny story about that, with our colleague Clawhauser accidentally—"

"I know that you got really into it," interjected a gazelle from the back of the audience, "and it was probably plenty of fun to _make_ , but that's not necessarily going to mak it fun to _watch_."

Judy and Nick glanced at each other, not saying anything back, as several members of the crowd murmured in support of the gazelle. The bunny scratched one of her ears for a bit. She then looked back at the wolf.

"I don't mind 'chewing the scenery' but a lot of this felt like both the wolf and the rabbit treated the scenery like a platter of Bug Burga," the wolf went on, leaning onto the edge of his seat, "you see what I mean? That makes the homemade, kitsch kind of look of everything else due to the sets, the design of the monster, and all that... like... like glaringly off."

"I kind of agree," said the weasel before munching down the last bit of a huge candy bar. He looked directly over at Nick and then over back at the projection booth behind him. "Just because you show something in a full theater and call it 'amateur movie-making' or whatever doesn't make as interesting as a normal movie."

“Can I be _really_ honest?” the gym-going hare asked, shifting around in his spot nervously. "Please?" He had a peculiar tone to his voice, a hint of desperation mixed with something that the officers couldn't place, that felt rather odd.

“Sure!” Judy replied without really thinking it through, sipping a bit from an immense, movie-sized cup of cream soda to her side. After jotting down in a personal notebook, she made a little sign with her paws over at Nick. The fox's nod and understanding expression indicated that he enjoyed having a break from the regular police paperwork, even if he'd rather make better plans for a late Friday.

"The team put their hearts into this. You can put your heart into your own critique,” Nick said. Judy smiled. Underneath her, the notebook read 'acting styles -> more natural', 'fabric softener -> nah', and other messages all scribbled out.

“We're here as 'Friends of the ZPD', right? Civilian visitors being quasi-deputized, yeah, being part of this college program getting credits... but to you two officers, I do mean it, we're at least _potential_ real-life friends. That make sense?" The hare lifted his body up expecting at least a few paws in the air of approval. However, only a few of the dozen mammals in the audience weren't zoning out completely. He went on anyways, face-to-face locking eyes with Judy. "Alright, _as a friend,_ I think that doing a fan-fiction TV episode as a character building exercise, even if it brings the police guys together, helps with future productions, and blah-blah-blah... it's just... _no._ "

"It's 'just no'," Judy repeated, not quite understanding.

"This is too damn nerdy and too damn weird already," the hare went on, "and I'd expect love for this kind of quirky crap made by English buttfaces from... from like your standard, average loser. Not from, dear God, cops!" He closed his eyes and swatted at the air above him. "From mammals that I expect to be all big, strong, and tough to protect the rest of us!"

"Alright," Nick said, slowly making his way to stand right beside Judy, "hold on a—"

"Of anything that you could rip off of to make your fan thing, really, you chose the ‘Ferrel Focks’ TV series, I mean— sweet Christmas!" The weight-lifter stood up on his seat completely as a few other audience members made voices of approval. "Making your mom the main co-star? Making Focks himself one of your childhood friends? That goof? And that was _your_ specific doing? It's adding insult to injury, come on!" He closed his eyes and brushed a paw against his face. "You guys have descended into the bowls of evil super-nerd darkness— my subconscious mind is screaming at me that if there was a locker in this room right now I would shove you into it."

" _Sir_ , wait," Judy began, letting her growing irritation come out in her voice.

"I swear to God," the hair exclaimed, "this puts you in ‘perma-virgin’ territory, rabbit!”

Judy dropped her cream soda against the cinema floor, slipping herself off of of the railing. “Perma-virgin— the hell?" Nick held up a paw in the air as a bunch of mammals around the hare made little murmurings.

“I, wait, I mean that for everyone else on the production team _besides_ you,” the hare quickly added, slipping his body sideways in his seat, "Sure, this is all scarily nerdy for my taste and probably most guys, but there’s no way you’re a virgin! I'm not accusing— I know you're really damn hot! Smokin'! It's clear to every guy here that you’re no virgin!"

The realization of what he had dug himself into, crossing a deep line, suddenly came over the weight-lifter. It felt like a flamethrower blasting an ice cream cone, and sweat began to ooze all over his face. He stammered for a second as he wiggled about in his seat. Quite a bunch of mammals all glared at him. He blinked a bunch of times before bouncing off into the aisle in front of him.

"Oh, hey," he let out, “I’m sorry, but, uh, just being honest! What I meant to say is that you could screw like anybody you want to! That's it, right?" He stepped around in a little circle as he felt as if his brains had suddenly switched off inside of his skull. "Or that's not it? I'm just saying— you could literally pick any guy here and have sex with him right now and he'd love it, so no worries! But, look, anyways, it's about the video! We should get back on topic!"

"Yes, we should," growled the wolf.

"The fox! Cast the fox as someone else!" The gym-going hare clapped his paws together.

He abruptly appeared right besides Nick, the cop freezing in place in an act of heroic restraint. Judy still shivered in raw anger, with eyes wide. Sweat pooled all along the hare's body like a torrent of little waterfalls.

"Like this big lug," the hare remarked, tugging at a bit of Nick's uniform, "he'd make a great Ferrel Focks! There's no chance in hell anyone will think that he'd get turned down by anybody, regardless of species or gender, just look at him! We'd probably think that he banged _all_ of the co-stars, you especially, so— and—" His body appeared to start to completely shut down, his eyes almost changing colors as his mouth quivered.

"Goodbye to all of you, and thank you," Nick remarked, keeping to an emotionless monotone as he pointed over to the back of the theater.

At long last succeeding in keeping himself from saying another word, the weight-lifter just bowed his head and stepped away to the cinema's exit. The other audience members did the same. A few of them made some kind of gesture or soft remark that neither Judy nor Nick paid particular attention too. Finally, with the doors slamming shut at the side corner of the cinema, Judy flipped her body around and faced the fox.

 _"Perma-virgin!"_ She rolled her shoulders back and shoved her paws in front of her.

"I know," Nick remarked, kneeling right beside her, "seriously, I know."

"What complete idiot made up _that_ in the first place? And how does it even _begin_ to make sense?"

"They're college students," Nick began, shifting his body even closer to the rabbit as she angrily tapped a footpaw against the cold cinema floor, "and, even worse, bored criminal justice majors on a Friday. There you go."

"I know that... _well..._ like..." Judy murmured, pressing a paw against her temple and looking up at the empty cinema aisles, "I know that you don't get it. You don't have to get it." She closed her eyes and made a small sigh. "It's not just an interest. It's... it's a fandom. It's its own thing. I've found myself thinking about cybernetic monster attacks and alien-on-nurse romance all damn day for a while now."

"Yes, from when you brush your teeth in the morning to when you clutch your little plush friend at night," Nick said, "I understand."

"Ugh!" Judy gripped her ears. "I feel like kicking someone across the room or something!" 

"Hey, don't you dare let this really get to you, even the littlest bit," Nick remarked, holding Judy's shoulder and giving her a compassionate smile, "oh, sure, maybe at the office they had other ideas? Scattershot, scatterbrained notions of 'maybe this' or 'maybe that'? But it was _you_ , carrots, that actually put yourself in the _arena_. You actually jumped up to do the work of writing a screen-play, drawing story-boards, finding props, and so much more. This is more than just a thing to test department equipment, to get ready for doing public service announcements, to bring the guys closer together, or whatever jargon gets typed up. This is you stepping up when not a other single cop had a real clue— how great is that?"

"I suppose so, yeah, but," Judy replied, putting her own paw against Nick's chest, "I need to think a lot more about this." The moment, perfectly alone together in the dark cinema, appeared totally perfect for one of their on-the-job cuddles. Yet she slid her paw off of Nick's body over to a big binder leaning against one of her seats, and she stood up straight. She had things to do.

**[End of Chapter One]**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading!
> 
> This story, as mentioned above, was written as a part of the 'Thematic Thursday' recurring event done by many fans of the wonderful film. I'm interested in expanding this out to show more elements of outer space fantasy. Please let me know what you think. I'm not exactly sure where to go, but I've got several ideas.


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